Balance in the world
by public static void
Summary: Whenever the darkness tries to overcome the light, a shift occurs in the world to make the balance return. A Lucius/Narcissa one-shot in their first Yule together.


**Dear secret friend; you know who you are XD. I hope you enjoy this, and sorry for being late.**

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His bed had not even warmed enough to put him on the revered state of half-sleep achieved only after a day of physical leisure and emotional turmoil. His eyes were open, aching dully with a tiredness that would not go even when he slept from dusk to sunrise; he stared at the ceiling, silently contemplating the ivy-shaped engravings on it. At his side, Narcissa stirred without waking, prompting him to take a peek at her sleeping form.

Four months had passed since their wedding, a luxe event held under the stars but by no means rustic. A traditional wedding for a Black, even one who did not bear a celestial name. Narcissa didn't need it; instead, the earthly name fit the breathtaking woman who belonged to him and not to the stars. A difference he couldn't quite place grew from the need to be different while remaining within the constructed fences.

She stirred again, turning around in her sleep. Facing up, she let Lucius bask in the soft glow of her face under the candlelight. His wife; an enchantress who turned eyes to her wherever she went. A walking poem, she was.

A shiver ran through him and finally, his gray eyes somberly closed. Rest didn't come that night, leaving his mind to wander and endless meadow of paranoid thoughts. Infinite possibilities —of danger and death caused by his pride— left him shaking; nightmares took hold of him as Narcissa peacefully slept. He didn't want to wake her up, not even when her cold feet brushed against his shin and brought him down to the reality of a night that didn't end.

The last thing he wants is to stumble upon a pit of chaos, yet Lucius fears he already did. Slowly as to not wake up his wife, he sat on the bed. His pale skin had a gaunt appearance emphasized by the cold tendrils of magic resting inside the black brand he wore. Slave to a psychopathic man, his freedom was blunted with fear and magically-reinforced loyalty. He felt disgusted by himself and wanted nothing more than to back down and tear the skin from his arm or to let himself be flayed in the most painful way to punish and cleanse himself at the same time.

"Husband," Narcissa interrupted his thoughts as she sat up too. The nightgown, soft to the touch, cling to her breasts causing Lucius to blush. It was not that he found her improper so much as he still considered her too beautiful and unapproachable; the magnificent goddess who became a mortal to be at his level.

She softly pulled his jaw, making him turn to her; he looked down instead, finding her free hand and taking it on his. Her sharp, colored nails tickled his skin.

"Are you unhappy?"

Though there were no reasons for him to be unhappy, her question was only logical after a wedding he opposed. He had confessed his sin already, speaking to Narcissa of the brand he sported and the nature of it. He thought she had understood.

He sought comforting words inside him, clenching his jaw when he realized his throat ached and burned with unshed tears he wouldn't let out. His closed fist supported his temple when he lowered his head, offering to his wife a silent apology.

"I love you, Narcissa," he told her, though she had to lean down to hear his muffled words. "You are the only happiness I have, but I don't deserve you."

Her answer were her fingers combing through his hair, a tender motion which felt intimate like nothing else. He stayed still, focusing only on the soft strokes of her hands.

Time passed, and soon he woke up to a cramped back and the limp hand of Narcissa over his head. He moved quietly, thanking the gods that Narcissa had still been lying against the upholstered headboard. She didn't complain when he covered her with the sheets, and he didn't voice disagreement when she cuddled up against him.

Through the windows, the sun hadn't come yet. The stars, her roots, shone and brought them light.

"This is my favorite Yule Night," she shared with him in a whisper barely heard. "Have I ever told you how my sisters and I would wake up early —at four in the morning, or so— to find our gifts?"

She laughed with starlight in her voice.

"Even Bellatrix?" Lucius asked, slightly amused at the thought of the vicious woman sneaking around the Black Manor to open gifts.

"Even Bellatrix," Narcissa agreed, nodding and remembering. Her eyes were far away, trying to peek into a time left behind. Lucius tried to remember what had he done as a child that could be counted as something special? Nothing came to mind. Maybe being an only child made him suffer a loneliness he hadn't realized until that moment.

"What about you?" his wife asked him. "What were your Yuletide traditions?"

He chuckled, wondering if she had read his mind —and as far as she knew Narcissa was skilled in the art of Legilimency, so he didn't rule it out— and was trying to make fun of him.

"The only thing we did every year was to have a dinner together," he said, and could feel the nostalgia around them. Absentmindedly, he nuzzled Narcissa's neck and kissed the corner of her lips. "As you might know, my father spent his life working in France. He came for birthdays and anniversaries. We spent those days together, but no celebration was like our Yule night."

He shifted on the bed, pulling Narcissa closer to which she complied without a word. She reached up to kiss his temple.

"My father would wake me up," Lucius told. He could tell Narcissa was attentive, with her eyes fixed upon him. "We would watch dawn together, and then Mother would come with hot cocoa and small cakes. The elves didn't make them," he emphasized, knowing in their culture that was something important and meaningful. "and neither did they prepare our breakfast. Mother cooked and baked everything in Yule. Then we would listen to Father and the tales he shared with us. Most of the time they weren't appropriate for children, but I just... I loved being with my parents. They were distant and cold persons but, with me, they showed their best behavior. They gave me everything."

He kept speaking, telling Narcissa of all the little things his father did to make up for the missed time. At the end, Narcissa was teary-eyed, though Lucius couldn't know if she was sad for him, or if the tears meant something else. He wiped them away with his hand and kissed her forehead.

"I never thought about being a single child," she admitted, frowning. "My sisters and I were always together when we were children, and our Yule festivities were lively."

He laughed then.

"Yes. I remember one Yule Feast at Black's Manor where Bellatrix lit up the pig on fire because she thought it was undercooked."

She tilted her head. "She did? When? I can't remember."

Lucius shrugged. "You would have been three or four years old at the time, Narcissa," he said with a smirk. "But I remember you, a porcelain doll silently eating until night fell and she was sent up to sleep. You were so strange..."

"Me? Let me remind you, that your hair is longer than mine, Mister Malfoy," she laughed, leaving the warmth of his arms to climb on his lap and straddle him. "And you like pickles with mayonnaise."

"There is nothing wrong with pickles," Lucius defended with eyes narrowed, wondering how could Narcissa relate her being a doll-child to his hair and his favorite snack.

"But there is a universe between good taste and mayonnaise!"

He laughed but fell silent when her own laughter vibrating through their closeness. Their situation felt intimate; with their barely dressed bodies not even participating in an event that exuded devotion to each other. In moments like that, Lucius asked himself if there was the slightest chance of shedding the darkness away from him so he could cherish her for the rest of his life without the constant reminder of his slavery.

"Isn't this enough for you?"

Narcissa's question astonished him; he saw the doubt in her eyes and promptly embraced her.

"Narcissa, never doubt you are enough. It's me who isn't worth of you."

"Please! We're made for each other, Lucius," she said with a slight smirk. "I know you're afraid for me, for the family we will have one day, but think of it this way. Equilibrium means I'm the lightest part of you and you're the darkest part of me. Together, we're perfect and nobody can't tell you otherwise. Not even the Dark Lord, and not your own mind."

He saw the way her lips moved when she spoke as well as he listened to the certainty in her voice. She was something magical, and Lucius would not be surprised if word came from the heavens that an angel had escaped and taken human form in her.

"Whenever your thoughts assault you, remember this moment. Find the balance, Lucius."

"I never knew you were a philosopher, dear," he muttered before softly biting her lower lip, to which she responded with a moan.

"There are many things you don't know about me yet, but we have an entire life to discover our secrets and create some more."

Her mischievous smile took him by surprise, but he still grinned and followed her lead.

She was right. They had all their life.


End file.
